<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Found Footage by mariadperiad20</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22927063">Found Footage</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariadperiad20/pseuds/mariadperiad20'>mariadperiad20</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Foray into B99 [18]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago, F/M, Happy Ending, Hurt Jake Peralta, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, bamf!team</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:35:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,310</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22927063</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariadperiad20/pseuds/mariadperiad20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jake thought that he'd never have to think about what happened with the guard in prison. Or tell anyone. Ever. But, judging by the sounds coming from the monitor on Amy's desk, maybe that wasn't the case.</p><p>Request fic!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Foray into B99 [18]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1320137</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>90</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>985</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>RandomFanfictionsE.g.Anime</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jake was typing away at his desk, stack of completed paperwork growing at a painstaking slow pace. Amy’s stack was significantly higher than his - how was it possible that even though she <i>laminated</i> each page, she still worked faster than him? - and Jake wondered if she’d help him out if he batted his eyes at her.</p><p>Of course, it definitely wouldn’t, but he could still try.</p><p>Jake saw a ding on his computer pop up - a mass email. He ignored it, instead continuing to resolutely type away. He had to get a leg on, if he had any hope of finishing on time with Amy - the new episode of Property Brothers was coming out tonight, and they were going to watch it together. Amy had a thing for open concept kitchens, apparently.</p><p>Okay, so did he.</p><p>Okay, so did <i>everyone</i>. Open kitchens are great.</p><p>Actually, thinking about kitchens made him want coffee.</p><p>Jake got up, picking up his empty cup, and Amy’s while he was at it, walking into the kitchenette to pour out the coffee. It wasn’t the best, but then, it was free, so he couldn’t complain. Too much, anyway. He put some milk in Amy’s, as she liked, and then a fuckton of sugar into his - the best way to drink it was when it had the consistency of sludge from the sugar to coffee ratio - and sauntered back over to his desk, taking care to keep which drink was which straight.</p><p>Amy had once accidentally taken a sip of his coffee, and proceeded to gag and spit it all over a file so… definitely don’t want to mix them up.</p><p>Jake focused on not spilling the drinks - he’d overfilled them, hadn’t been paying attention - and the sounds of the precinct seeming to fade away.</p><p>“Hey, Ames, I made yours just the way you like it!” He said cheerily, glancing up. Then, his footsteps slowed to a halt, grin freezing on his face.</p><p>The entire team was gathered around Amy’s computer, staring at it, agape.</p><p>Rosa’s face was set in a scowl, and Amy’s mouse was being crushed in her hand. Terry’s face was set, hard, anger etched into every line of his body. Charles looked like he was about to cry, and he was hugging himself. And Amy…</p><p>Amy’s eyes were wide, and brimmed with tears. Her hand was clasped over her mouth, wedding ring reflecting the light from the ceiling.</p><p>Jake heard the faint sound of grunting, of cursing… it sounded familiar, in a way that twisted into Jake’s gut and made him feel ill. The voice sounded familiar, and Jake wanted to move closer, to tell them to stop, to see what it was… but his feet were glued in place. The entire world was moving too fast and too slow and all he could see was the sight of Amy, about to cry, and the growing feeling of dread at realizing something was wrong, and that he was afraid.</p><p>Then, he heard a cry of pain.</p><p><i>His</i> cry of pain.</p><p>Jake felt one of the mugs - fuck, Amy's - slip out of his hand.</p><p>Heard the sound of it shattering on the floor.</p><p>Saw everyone’s heads lift to stare at him, mixture of sadness, anger, and exponentially growing concern on their faces.</p><p>Jake wanted to speak.</p><p>His tongue was lead in his mouth.</p><p>The sound of his beating in the prison was being drowned out by the blood rushing in his ears,</p><p>“Jake?” Amy asked carefully, standing up.</p><p>In an instant, his feet unstuck from the floor, and the surviving cup of coffee - his own, it seemed - was being placed onto his desk as he shoved down into his chair, trying desperately not to stumble and not quite succeeding. Clearing his throat, he flashed them a wide, fake grin. It looked more like a grimace, he knew.</p><p>“Didn’t realize you made home videos, Ames.” Jake said. The words were joking, and he intended to say them as such, but it fell flat. There wasn’t really a point to it, he couldn’t bring himself to put in the effort.</p><p>“Who the fuck was that?” Rosa asked, slamming her hand on the table and leaning forwards. “Give me their name.”</p><p>Jake leaned back from her. A particularly sickening crunch came from Amy’s monitor, followed by a scream - <i>his</i> scream, that was when the guard had dislocated his arm -, and Jake spat out, “Turn that off, would you?” His voice was a touch too panicked, too hurt. It wasn’t begging, but it might as well have been.</p><p>Amy quickly jabbed the power button, and the noises stopped. Her hands were shaking.</p><p>Jake swore he could still hear them, though.</p><p>He could remember the guard’s face, sneering and red with anger at him daring to be looked at. The force of his boot kicking against his ribs, the feeling of them bending inwards and how it hurt to breathe afterwards, the pain that radiated from his head after a few punches landed there, the way he was afraid to fall asleep afterwards in case he had a concussion, how every movement ached…</p><p>“-ke? You okay, man?” A voice swam through the fog.</p><p>It was Terry.</p><p>“You sorta spaced out there for a moment.”</p><p>Jake blinked, and realized the team was still staring at him, somehow even <i>more</i> concerned looking than before.</p><p>“I’m cool. Cool. cool cool cool, no doubt, everything’s great, cool cool.” Jake nodded, feeling his fingers digging into his arms so hard it must be bruising.</p><p>“Jake…” Amy said softly, reaching out across the desks. Her eyes were swimming, and he didn’t mean to make her sad. He never wanted to do that.</p><p>Jake flinched.</p><p>Amy froze, and her eyes, if possible, widened even further.</p><p>Her pain felt reflected in his own heart, and he felt his body tense somehow even further. He had made her upset, he’d made her more sad, fuck, he hadn’t meant to do that, he didn’t want to hurt her, never her, not Amy, not <i>Amy</i>, he loved her, he didn’t want her to see that, didn’t want her to know, didn’t want her to look at him with those eyes. As if she was afraid that if she reached out to touch him again, he would break.</p><p>But, if she did… maybe he would.</p><p>They were all staring at him.</p><p>It was too much.</p><p>Jake couldn’t bring himself to look them in the face.</p><p>Looking people in the face was bad. That’s what got him hurt. He wasn’t supposed to do that. His body ached with a phantom pain, although, was it really phantom if he still felt it?</p><p>He forced his gaze away from Amy, who was still staring at him like he had just killed her brother…</p><p>Well, no, at least then she’d be angry. Here, upset, it was just… sadness.</p><p>It hurt to see her so devastated. It ached somewhere in his heart, deep underneath, below the memory of the boots stomping on his chest.</p><p>He was causing her pain.</p><p>Jake stared at his computer screen, willing himself to simply… ignore what had just happened.</p><p>Suppress, repress, and move on. That was the Peralta way, after all.</p><p>His trembling fingers moved to his keyboard, and a hand came down on it.</p><p>He jerked back from it, eyes flicking up to see Rosa, who was currently ripping the keyboard cord out of the computer, confiscating it.</p><p>“Rosa, come on!”</p><p>“No. You’re going to… talk about this. Or whatever.”</p><p>“<i>What</i>? Rosa, you hate talking about stuff! You should be on my side!”</p><p>“No, man. This isn’t lame stuff like relationships, or allergies, or families, or hobbies, or home addresses. You got seriously hurt.”</p><p>“Pft. It wasn’t… serious.” Jake shrugged tensely, tucking his bottom lip under his teeth.</p><p>“Uh huh.” Rosa raised an eyebrow. “Then you don’t mind if we finish watching it?”</p><p>“No!” Jake shot forward, panic very briefly crossing his face before he was able to shove it back down. “Rosa, please.” His voice was pleading, “Just drop it.”</p><p>Rosa didn’t look satisfied. “Jake-”</p><p>“I’m fine now, seriously! 1,000 pushups.”</p><p>Rosa grimaced, but obligingly backed down, shoving the keyboard back onto his desk.</p><p>“Fine.” She snarled, before turning and storming back to her own desk, absolute murder written on her face.</p><p>Jake was sure that, whether he said anything or not, Rosa was going to figure out who the guard was soon enough. She had her ways.</p><p>He almost pitied the man, before he remembered how he had grabbed Jake by the hair, lifting his head and slamming it into the concrete ground and laughing when Jake hadn’t been able to breathe from all of the ribs poking inside his lungs.</p><p>Yeah, Rosa would be fine.</p><p>Terry followed after Rosa, probably to make sure she didn’t kill him, or possibly to help her. Jake wasn’t entirely sure.</p><p>Charles was well past the brink of tears.</p><p>“Jakey, I’m so sorry! I was so worried about you making new friends in prison, I forgot to ask you if you were making enemies. I should’ve done more for you, but I’ve just been riding it out over here like an idiot!”</p><p>“No, it’s fine, Charles. I didn’t tell you, you couldn’t have known.”</p><p>“It’s my job to know, I’m your friend!” Boyle didn’t seem consoled. He spread his arms. “Would you like a 10 minute Boyle hug?”</p><p>Jake found a small, actual smile crossing his face at the gesture.</p><p>It was inviting, actually, to simply hug it out. Although Jake would never admit it to anyone except Boyle, he really did love the time they spent together doing random stuff like pottery, or origami, or whatever it was Charles was into that week.</p><p>He knew that Charles wouldn’t judge him for it.</p><p>But, he also knew that right now, physical contact was a definite no-no.</p><p>“Thanks, Charles, but not right now. Maybe later?”</p><p>“Oh. Yeah, okay.” Boyle looked absolutely crushed, practically deflating in front of him. “No, of course, I shouldn’t-”</p><p>“Hey, buddy,” Jake said, “How about you get that food… thing… you wanted me to try, yeah?”</p><p>Boyle immediately perked up. “On it!” He grinned, practically sprinting to his desk to grab his jacket, shoving it on haphazardly. “You’re going to love it!”</p><p>Yep. Food was Charles’ love language, and, if it made him feel better, Jake would choke down whatever “it” was. Although, legitimately, the vague wording of whatever “it” was was actually highly concerning.</p><p>With Rosa on the warpath, dragging Terry along with her, and Boyle going off to get something that would probably give Jake food poisoning, that only left-</p><p>Holt cleared his throat.</p><p>Jake jumped about a foot in the air, grabbing his armrests and turning his head to see Holt standing next to him.</p><p>“Peralta.”</p><p>“Captain.” Jake said apprehensively, feeling his heartrate begin to pick up once more.</p><p>“I received an electronic mail. Upon viewing it, I lost all sense of decorum. Even now, speaking to you, I am a mess.”</p><p>“Uh huh.” Jake smiled tightly, “I can see that.”</p><p>“Of course.” Holt nodded once. “It was foolish of me to come to speak with you when I am in such a state. It is improper and is clearly causing distress. I will remove myself from this situation.”</p><p>Holt sped-walked, which for him was practically sprinting, back to his office, closing the door behind him.</p><p>“Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him emote that much in my life.” Jake joked, turning to face Amy.</p><p>Oh.</p><p>Oh <i>no<i>.</i></i></p><p>
  <i>
    <i>She wasn’t near crying anymore - thank goodness, Jake didn’t want to ever make Amy cry, ever - but she still looked so sad.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>In a way, it was worse. There was nothing to distract from the pain written on her face.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Jake stood up, walking to the evidence locker. Amy followed after him. He didn’t want to do this here. Not when he had just convinced everyone that he was fine. Or, more accurately, convinced everyone to do whatever it was they wanted to do to “help” him so long as it was out of his having to interact with them.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Jake closed the door after them, leaning against it as he turned to face Amy.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Jake.” She said softly.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>And Jake broke.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He sank slowly to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest. He couldn’t seem to make himself stop crying, not even for breath, and his arms wrapped around his legs in some instinctive attempt at hiding the fact his entire body was shaking.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Everything hurt. He swore he could <i>feel</i> it hurting.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Amy sat down next to him, not quite touching. Giving him the room to decide.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Jake.” She said again, “I’m here.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Jake choked out a laugh. It sounded more like a groan than anything else.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Fuck.” He said finally, leaning his head back against the metal chain of the door behind him. “<i>Fuck!</i>”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Amy didn’t say anything.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“None of you were supposed to see that. None of you were… <i>fuck</i>.” Jake grimaced, keeping his head straight, gaze locked on the boxes in front of them. “I didn’t… it’s not…I didn’t have a choice.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“That makes it worse, Jake.” Amy replied, “You don’t deserve-”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Yeah, well, I did, actually. I knew the rules - look at the guard, get your ass beat. And, guess what, Ames? I did. So… I did deserve it. Those are the rules.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>They were both silent for a bit.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“I’m sorry.” Amy said finally, “You shouldn’t have had to go through that.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Yeah, well… I can’t change that, now. And you weren’t supposed to know. Who the fuck sent the email?”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“I don’t know. I’m sure the Sarge is on it.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Yeah, probably.” Jake sighed, turning his head to look at Amy. She looked back, eyes still so full of sadness, but still put together.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Jake felt like he was coming undone at the seams.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“I’m sorry, Amy. It was the only way.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“I know.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“I had to get him to hurt me, so I could get evidence.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Amy was silent.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“I never meant for anyone to find out. I never wanted to hurt you.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“You didn’t hurt me.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Ames, I can see it on your face. I’ve hurt you. A lot. I’m sorry.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Now Amy looked upset, with a touch of anger. “You don’t need to apologize, Jake. it wasn’t your fault. You did what you had to do, I understand that. And while I don’t like that you kept it from me, I’m not going to… be mad at you. I’m mad at the situation, not you. Never you.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“But…” Jake felt his eyebrow twitch down, sadness crossing his features, mixed with resignation. As if he already knew what was going to happen before she said anything. When he spoke, his voice was small, quiet. “Say that you forgive me, anyway?”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Amy’s eyebrows lowered, and a sad smile edged onto her face, head tilting slightly. She reached out with one hand tentatively, and Jake leaned into it, letting it cup his face.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Of course I forgive you, Jake.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Jake brought up his hand to cover hers, closing his eyes.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>His body ached with phantom pains, but they seemed to dull at her words. Of course he knew, logically, that it wasn't his fault, that he had to do it for the video evidence. But still, all he felt was relief. Amy forgave him.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>That was all that mattered.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>They sat in silence, for he didn't even know how long, before he spoke, voice raspy.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"I don't think we're going to make it home in time for Property Brothers."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"That's okay." Amy said.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Jake raised an eyebrow, and she begrudgingly added, "I may have DVR-ed it."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Wow."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"I like having backups!" She said indignantly, lightly shoving him.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Jake's face broke out into a wide grin. "I love you, Ames. For realz."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Love you too."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"For?" Jake nudged her arm.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Amy gave him a mock annoyed look, even as the slight smile crept over her face.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Finally, she muttered back, "For realz."</i>
  </i>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><i>Total Request:</i> Hello this was wonderful and I was wondering if I could request a fic?? What if the footage on Jakes phone in prison of a guard beating him up hadn’t been deleted, and after Jake got back someone shady sent the footage to everyone in the precinct? I can imagine everyone getting a collective email like when Jake accidentally let everyone know Terry was gonna have another kid? I’d write it myself but I’m not good at it haha</p><p>Thank you for your request! :D</p><p>I accept validation in the form of comments &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Amy POV</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Amy glanced up as her computer dinged, mass email being sent. Thankfully, she was laminating her last paper for the case file, so she’d be able to check it in a moment.</p><p>Jake - her husband - seemed oblivious to the frankly colossal amount of paperwork needing to be done at his desk, instead opting to rise up, grabbing their mugs.</p><p>Jake better keep their mugs straight this time. If she ever had to taste that sugary molasses he called coffee again, she would make him sleep on the couch.</p><p>Amy placed her papers carefully into their folder, adding it to her stack of completed files, before clicking her computer’s email list. The email was untitled, but sent en masse to the entire precinct.</p><p>It was probably a virus, Amy suspected, but she opened it anyway.</p><p>The body of the email was comprised of a single video clip, and Amy squinted at it. The image seemed to be a blurry few people, and she hesitated. She knew she shouldn’t, that it was a bad idea, but she felt a sense of dread growing. She felt like she really, really had to.</p><p>She clicked the video.</p><p>It seemed to be a prison fight. A guard was kicking a prisoner, who was shielding their body as best they could. She felt her heart sink as she heard the sounds of grunting, choking gasps of pain, that seemed to be forced out of the prisoner’s body.</p><p>She knew, knew on some fundamental level what this was. But it was still hard to acknowledge, until… a particularly brutal kick sent the prisoner’s head rocking to the side, and those eyes - so full of pain - caught the camera’s lens.</p><p>It was Jake.</p><p>Amy gasped, hands clapping over her mouth, horrified.</p><p>The members of the precinct seemed to appear behind her. First, Terry, concerned over Amy’s clear distress.</p><p>“What the-?” Terry’s eyes widened, before his expression morphed into a hard frown. “Is that Jake?”</p><p>At the name, Charles popped over. “What about Jakey?” Then his gaze fell onto the video in front of them, and his face fell. “Oh, no.” He said softly.</p><p>Rosa’s fist came down on the desk. She had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, as she is wont to do. “I’ll kill him.” She growled.</p><p>“Hey, Ames, I made yours just the way you like it!” Jake’s cheerful voice said. Amy looked up to see Jake walking towards them, cups in hands.</p><p>It was a strange juxtaposition, seeing the grinning, happy Jake in front of her, with the man in so much pain on her screen. How could Jake be smiling at her now? After this had happened to him?</p><p>His footsteps seemed to falter at her expression, taking in the situation.</p><p>Amy should turn off the screen - she wanted to. But she felt frozen.</p><p>Onscreen, the guard pulled out his baton, before bringing it down directly on Jake’s sternum.</p><p>He screamed in pain.</p><p>The Jake in front of her seemed to go stiff, one of the cups falling from his hand. His eyes were wide, too wide.</p><p>He looked afraid.</p><p>Amy had never seen Jake so afraid before. Not when there was a bomb at their wedding, not when he had been sentenced, not when he had been shot, not even when Holt said he was resigning.</p><p>He wasn’t just afraid because of what had happened. He was afraid because they were <i>seeing</i> it.</p><p>… Because <i>she</i> was seeing it.</p><p>Her heart ached.</p><p>“Jake…” She said softly, standing up. She wanted nothing more than to somehow assuage the fear that was so ingrained into his face.</p><p>In an instant, it changed. As if Jake flipped a switch, he sauntered the rest of the way over, flopped down onto his seat, flashing her a wide, fake smile and sipping from his coffee sludge.</p><p>It didn’t escape Amy’s notice that he seemed to stagger as he walked.</p><p>“Didn’t realize you made home videos, Ames.” Jake said, voice pitched up a touch, and face strained.</p><p>“Who the fuck was that?” Rosa asked, slamming her hand on the table again and leaning forwards. “Give me their name.”</p><p>Amy flashed her a glare as Jake seemed to shrink back from the definitely scary detective in front of them.</p><p>Jake didn’t reply, and Amy could practically see the slight panic, how he was struggling to gather his thoughts.</p><p>On screen, the guard brought down his baton on Jake’s shoulder, and there was a horrific popping sound, followed by Jake's scream of agony.</p><p>“Turn that off, would you?” Jake said suddenly, almost pleadingly.</p><p>Amy, glad for the excuse to move, quickly slamming the power button, screen fading to black. The image of her Jake, curled up on the dirty floor, twitching fingers clutching his suddenly out of place arm, was burned into her corneas.</p><p>How could Jake have ever survived prison, let alone come back and still be so loving and happy? Get her coffee just because he knew she would want it?</p><p>Amy felt sick.</p><p>How could she have let this happen? She should have done more, done something, anything.</p><p>Her eyes flitted down to her desk, where a picture of her and Jake was framed on the desk, next to the laminator.</p><p>How could he even smile, anymore?</p><p>He certainly wasn’t smiling now, expression having gone completely blank, staring aimlessly into space.</p><p>“Jake?” Terry asked, frowning. It took him a few more tries before it seemed to get through to Jake, who blinked a couple times before looking at her fully. “You sorta spaced out there for a moment.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m cool, cool cool, cool, no doubt no doubt.” Jake said, body tensed. His gaze kept flicking between everyone’s faces, unwilling or unable to focus in on any of them.</p><p>“Jake…” Amy said sadly, reaching out to him.</p><p>Jake flinched back.</p><p>Amy felt her blood turn to ice, and she jerked her hand back as if he had burned her. His face - he looked so broken, so despaired - she wanted nothing more than to hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay, but she didn’t dare.</p><p>She didn’t want to hurt him any more than he already had been.</p><p>Jake’s eyes dropped down to his own desk, and she blinked back the tears in her eyes. It wasn’t fair to him to bring her own emotions into this, not now. Not when he was hurting.</p><p>Amy knew, logically, that it had been over a year since that had happened to him. That it was in the past. But she felt the urge to help him now, check on him now. The sight of her husband in pain was devastating, and she needed to do something.</p><p>But not at his expense. She couldn’t be selfish, not about this.</p><p>That being acknowledged… Jake wasn’t exactly offering a conversation. His hands moved to the keyboard, beginning to type on what seemed to be a report.</p><p>As if none of this had happened.</p><p>Amy was going to interject, but then Rosa was moving.</p><p>She deftly swiped up the keyboard, confiscating it from Jake’s desk.</p><p>Jake’s head flashed up, face annoyed - but still so, so afraid - as he said, irritably, “Rosa, come on!”</p><p>“No.” Rosa replied tightly. “You’re going to… talk about this. Or whatever.” She looked physically pained to be saying the words.</p><p>“What? Rosa, you hate talking about stuff! You should be on my side!” Jake gestured at himself and the team, still gathered behind Amy’s desk. Amy didn't realize there was a side. That they were on different ones.</p><p>“No, man. This isn’t lame stuff like relationships, or allergies, or families, or hobbies, or home addresses. You got seriously hurt.” Her tone left no room for argument.</p><p>“Pft. It wasn’t… serious.” Jake shrugged tensely, tucking his bottom lip under his teeth.</p><p>“Uh huh.” Rosa raised an eyebrow. “Then you don’t mind if we finish watching it?”</p><p>Amy didn’t want to do that. She didn’t want to see how Jake had been hurt, how he had been so defenseless. She had half a mind to just smash her computer, like how Rosa herself was prone to do, and then have a guilt cigarette… or a pack.</p><p>“No!” Jake begged, mask slipping, “Rosa, please. Just drop it.”</p><p>Amy was simultaneously relieved - for which she felt immediately guilty, just because she didn’t want to see it didn’t mean she had the right to be glad that Jake was so <i>scared</i> of them seeing it - and more concerned.</p><p>“Jake.” Rosa said, not unkindly.</p><p>“I’m fine now, seriously! 1,000 pushups.” Jake said firmly, staring Rosa in the face.</p><p>Rosa growled, but placed the keyboard - surprisingly gently - back onto Jake’s desk, before storming off to her own.</p><p>Amy had no illusions as to what precisely Rosa was doing, and she very much doubted it was precinct work.</p><p>Terry squeezed Amy’s shoulder reassuringly, before following after Rosa, most likely to aide, rather than abet, her newfound quest for vengeance.</p><p>Amy found herself feeling eager at the thought of Rosa beating the guard the same way he had beaten Jake, even as she was simultaneously concerned for even thinking that way.</p><p>But all she could think about was how Jake had looked, had <i>sounded</i>. Battered, bruised, bleeding… cries of pain being ripped out of his throat.</p><p>She swallowed hard.</p><p>Amy was brought back to the present by the presence of the Captain standing beside Jake.</p><p>Jake seemed thrown by it, and Holt departed as quickly as he could, clearly uncomfortable with the situation - Amy understood as it did, after all, involve emotions and feelings. Holt was mildly better at them than Rosa, but he also thought of Jake as his son.</p><p>Amy didn’t even want to think about what was going through Holt’s mind at the moment.</p><p>Jake seemed to be relieved by his leaving just the same, and he turned to Amy with a slightly more natural - although still strained - grin on his face. “Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him emote that much in my life.”</p><p>His face seemed to fall as he made eye contact with Amy. She was trying to hide the distress on her face - it wasn’t fair of her to make this about herself, not right now - but she knew he could see through it, just as she could see through his bravado into the fear that was underneath.</p><p>Jake seemed to deliberate for a moment, before standing, walking away. Amy followed after him, casting a glance towards Rosa and Terry - both were very invested in what appeared to be a certain penitentiary guard roster.</p><p>Jake wasn’t hurrying, or trying to get away from her, so she kept after him, all the way to the evidence locker. He paused once inside, and Amy followed after him.</p><p>He turned, closing the door behind the pair. They were alone, and after all of that, Amy was certain that the others would leave them be.</p><p>Jake leaned against the wall, eyes meeting hers. His mask was gone, he looked more vulnerable than she had seen him… well, maybe ever. Certainly since the last time they talked about having a kid.</p><p>“Jake…” Amy said quietly. She wasn’t sure what she was going to say next, and, she never really had much of a chance to, anyway.</p><p>Jake’s mouth twitched, and then tears were spilling out over his eyes, his entire body shaking as he sank to the floor.</p><p>He was trembling, and so, completely broken. Even now, he seemed to be shielding his body, as if from a blow he was waiting to happen.</p><p>Amy sat down beside him carefully, giving him a little bit of space. Enough to be nonthreatening, but to also let him know that she was there, for him.</p><p>“Jake, I’m here.” She said, not sure of what else to add.</p><p>Jake made a sound, some mix of a mirthless laugh and a moan. “Fuck.” he muttered, before slamming his head back against the door, “Fuck!” He shouted.</p><p>Amy wanted to hug him, hold him close. Instead, she was silent, waiting. He would speak when he wanted to, ask for comfort when he wanted to. It wasn’t her place to decide that for him.</p><p>“None of you were supposed to see that. None of you were… fuck.” Jake’s face contorted, looking forward, unable to look at her. “I didn’t… it’s not…I didn’t have a choice.”</p><p>“That makes it worse, Jake.” Amy replied, feeling indignation rising within her. “You don’t deserve-”</p><p>“Yeah, well, I did, actually.” Jake cut her off. “I knew the rules - look at the guard, get your ass beat. And, guess what, Ames? I did. So… I did deserve it. Those are the rules.”</p><p>Amy didn’t know what to say to that. There were so many levels of wrongness to it, she wasn’t sure how she could even begin to dismantle all of it. How she could explain that it’s not supposed to be like that, that even if it was it still wasn’t his fault, how even if he didn’t have a choice it wasn’t his fault. How she could ever encompass all of that in one.</p><p>“I’m sorry.” She finally said. “You shouldn’t have had to go through that.” The words sounded empty, even to her ears. Meaningless.</p><p>“Yeah, well… I can’t change that, now. And you weren’t supposed to know. Who the fuck sent the email?”</p><p>“I don’t know. I’m sure the Sarge is on it.” <i>And Rosa</i> Amy bit back from adding. There was no need to state the obvious.</p><p>“Yeah, probably.” Jake sighed, turning his head to look at Amy. His eyes still looked so much in pain, but he had stopped crying. That was good, right? He still looked so devastated, though, so heartbroken.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Ames. It was the only way.” He said.</p><p>“I know.” Amy could see in his eyes how much he was begging her to understand.</p><p>“I had to get him to hurt me, so I could get evidence.”</p><p>Amy knew about the evidence gathering. She hadn’t realized that this was how he had gotten it. She kept the realization off of her face, however. She would have time to think about that later, once Jake was okay.</p><p>“I never meant for anyone to find out. I never wanted to hurt you.”</p><p>“You didn’t hurt me.” Amy said truthfully. He hadn’t been the one to hurt her, but Jake didn’t seem convinced.</p><p>“Ames, I can see it on your face. I’ve hurt you. A lot. I’m sorry.” He sounded so painfully <i>guilty</i>. Exactly what Amy didn’t want to have happen.</p><p>“You don’t need to apologize, Jake.” She said firmly. “It wasn’t your fault. You did what you had to do, I understand that. And while I don’t like that you kept it from me,” She admitted that readily enough, it did bother her that he hadn’t come to her, even as she understood why he would have wanted to keep it to himself. “I’m not going to… be mad at you. I’m mad at the situation, not you. Never you.”</p><p>“But…” Jake didn’t seem particularly relieved at her statement, still looking like a kicked puppy.</p><p>Fuck, was that an accurate descriptor.</p><p>“Say that you forgive me, anyway?” He asked finally, meekly. As if he expected her to rebuke him for even suggesting it.</p><p>Amy felt her face fall slightly, even as she couldn’t help but smile a little. That was her Jake, all right. Always taking on the burden of guilt for a problem, even when he didn’t have to. He was so selfless, but it hurt sometimes, to see him so eager to put on that weight. Now, especially so.</p><p>She raised one hand carefully, slowly, towards Jake. She felt a surge of joy, and a good dose of relief, too, when he leaned into it, letting her cup his face gently.</p><p>She chose her words carefully. Of course, her instinct was to say that it wasn’t his fault. But… he wasn’t in the place right now to accept that. He would take it as not being forgiven. Finally, she simply said, “Of course I forgive you, Jake.”</p><p>Jake practically sagged in relief, some of the tension leaking out of his body at her words. His hand covered hers, and his eyes closed, as if trying to soak up her presence. As if when he opened his eyes, she was going to be gone.</p><p>Amy didn’t move, choosing to let him decide when he was ready to let go. This was for Jake’s sake.</p><p>Finally, he opened his eyes, turning his head to face her.</p><p>“I don’t think we’re going to make it home in time for Property Brothers.” He said, voice closer to his normal than it had been in quite a while.</p><p>Amy took the offer as it was - Jake was okay, now, and he wanted to move on from it. She accepted it, knew not to push. “That’s okay.” She said with a shrug.</p><p>Jake gave her a look, and she grimaced before admitting, “I… <i>may</i> have DVR-ed it.”</p><p>“Wow.” He replied slowly, raising an eyebrow.</p><p>“I like having backups!” She said defensively, shoving him lightly. She felt a flash of panic at the move - what if it upset him again, made him freak out? - but Jake’s face broke out into a wide grin. A real, true smile. Even though he had given her one just a bit earlier, when he was getting coffee, it felt like she hadn’t seen him smile in ages.</p><p>“I love you, Ames. For realz.”</p><p>She was once again blown away by how he had gone through so much, but still managed to be so open, so loving. How he had so much love in his heart. And that he was giving it so freely to her.</p><p>“Love you too.” She said, unable to hide her own reciprocal grin at his words. Even now, so long after they’d first said it to each other, it felt just as meaningful, just as important.</p><p>“For?” Jake asked with a cheeky grin.</p><p>Amy gave him a look, even as her smile grew.</p><p>“For realz.” She added, faux-begrudgingly.</p><p>She would say grammatically incorrect statements for the rest of her life, if only to make Jake never have to experience that suffering again.</p><p>And as Jake got to his feet, and offered his hand to help her up, she couldn’t help but feel as if he was feeling the same way, about her.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Amy POV, as requested! Thank you for your requests :)</p><p>guard: hits Jake<br/>kudo button: am I a joke to you?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Holt POV</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Holt did not pretend to understand electronic mail. He was able to use his account with relative competence, but he would often enlist the aid of Gina to make the more complex aspects of it function - such as attaching photographs and digital video to the messages. She had left him a note on how to </p><p>However, this… this was simply subpar. A message with no header, no message? Without an attached message, any video sent was less than useless. Holt fully intended to send a memo in regards to electronic mail usage, beginning with the importance of addressing them.</p><p>Still, he supposed, he should still watch the video. Considering it was sent to his account, it was most likely relevant.</p><p>He clicked the play button, folding his hands.</p><p>His eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of it, unsure of what he was seeing. It appeared to be a prison fight, although that would be a federal issue, not an… oh. He saw what this was about.</p><p>Peralta's body contorted with pain at the beating he was receiving, agonized expression flitting to the camera before another kick sent his head rocking back once more. There was no blood, but it was clear that there was no shortage of suffering from the sounds being ripped from his throat.</p><p>Holt jammed the pause button on his computer with his mouse, not wishing to see or hear anything more.</p><p>He leaned back, closing his eyes briefly, in an attempt to recover his decorum. He, illogically, could still see Jacob’s pained face in the form of a mental image, despite not much wanting to.</p><p>Reopening his eyes, Holt looked outside to the bullpen. It appeared that the entire squad had gathered by Santiago’s desk, and Jacob appeared to be having some sort of breakdown about it.</p><p>Holt leaned back, weighing his options. He should go and speak to Peralta in regards to the matter, since it appeared as if the electronic mail video had been sent to more people than solely himself. On the other hand, he felt an immense press of guilt on himself, and would prefer to wait until he had control over some of it before approaching - if only to prevent Peralta from reacting negatively.</p><p>A coward’s way out it was, Holt decided, picking up his phone and contacting the IT department. They were able to track digital content back to the sender, and, since the message was sent to members of the police, he figured he would be able to make it into a federal case if he so chose.</p><p>Holt was firmly in favor of uncovering who was responsible for this action, and he was certain that he would be able to succeed.</p><p>Still, Holt couldn’t seem to shake the guilt that crept into him. He should have accepted the aid of that scumbag Seamus Murphy before either of them had been sent to prison. He could have circumvented this entire situation.</p><p>Holt had no illusions that prison had been difficult for both Rosa and Jacob, although he knew that Peralta had handled it… less well than her. What he did not know was that these sorts of activities had been occurring. He should have stepped in sooner.</p><p>Holt rose to his feet, moving to the door to the bullpen. He felt hesitant, not wanting to worsen the situation, but he felt as if he had to do something.</p><p>Holt approached Peralta’s desk. Most of the squad had left, and it was just Santiago and Peralta left. They were staring at each other far too intently, and Holt would normally have objected to such PDA in the workplace. However, he felt this warranted an exception.</p><p>“Peralta.” Holt began, before cutting himself off as Jacob reacted to his presence with obvious discomfort.</p><p>“Captain.” Jacob replied, hands gripping his armrests and his face more pale than previously.</p><p>“I received an electronic mail.” Holt said, feeling distinctly uncomfortable, and hoping that by reacting to the situation as if giving a report would make it less awkward. Judging by Jacob’s expression, it appeared he was failing. “Upon viewing it, I lost all sense of decorum. Even now, speaking to you, I am a mess.”</p><p>“Uh huh. I can see that.” Jake replied with a grimace.</p><p>“Of course.” Holt nodded, feeling his guilt begin to overwhelm him. He was far too close to losing control over himself once more, and it would be improper to inflict the burden of his guilt onto Peralta. “It was foolish of me to come to speak with you when I am in such a state. It is improper and is clearly causing distress. I will remove myself from this situation.”</p><p>He turned and walked quickly back to his office, closing the door. Once the blinds were down, he was alone.</p><p>In the privacy of his office, Holt sat down heavily, placing his head into his hands in an absolute moment of pure, unadulterated emotionality.</p><p>It had all been so <i>preventable.</i></p><p>Holt found it difficult to reconcile the fact that he claimed the father figure role for Peralta - he had won that competition, certainly - with the fact that he had allowed this to happen. He knew how much suffering Jacob had gone through at the hands of parental figures, and the lack of them, and he had been so arrogant in believing he was to be an exception. Foolishly arrogant, it now seemed.</p><p>He had certainly not been the one to throw the punch, but he had enabled that situation to occur. The guilt of his inaction was near-overwhelming, a fact that was only compounded by how Jacob continued to place such trust in him now, as his captain and as an unofficial family member.</p><p>Holt was determined to punish the perpetrator who had sent the video, and the guard within it, but he felt he was responsible for what took place as well. He picked up his figurine of Cheddar, turning it over in his hands once before returning it to its position on his desk. He was shocked at himself - his emotionality was causing him to <i>fiddle</i>.</p><p>Legally, he had no responsibility for what transpired. He was no more responsible for what occurred than Murphy himself. Still, he could not shake the guilty feeling that he had failed his son.</p><p>Perhaps if he could find the perpetrators, he would be able to balance the scales. Of course, he couldn’t take back the suffering that had transpired even if he tried - and he was going to try -, which made it all the worse.</p><p>Holt had no illusions that, as far as police went, Jacob had encountered more than his fair share of suffering from his work. He had never intended to add to that suffering. However, it appeared that now, he had.</p><p>Holt pulled himself back together. His acknowledgement of his guilt did not enable him to avoid his responsibilities of Captain, and he had a duty at the moment to pursue the legally responsible perpetrators. Then he could consider what to do with himself.</p><p>He lifted the blinds back up, a glance out of his windows indicating that both Peralta and Santiago had vacated their desks.</p><p>Holt opened his door, allowing the IT worker into the room, pretending not to notice how Jeffords, Diaz, and Boyle spilled in after her.</p><p>Perhaps they, too, felt responsible for what transpired. Regardless, Holt knew that he had failed Jacob in a far more important way. What's worse, it appeared as if Jacob did not hold it against him, indicating that he was likely unaware of what had occurred. Or, more likely, he felt like he was entitled to the suffering at the hands of parental figures.</p><p>Holt's mouth curved downwards at that, indicating far more rage than he should really be showing in front of his team. No matter the reasoning Peralta may have, Holt knew of his own role in the situation.</p><p>And, unlike Peralta, Holt was not interested in forgiving himself for his inaction.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>as requested, a holt pov - i feel like he'd feel guilty about it?</p><p>comments are awesome, hint hint! :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Conclusion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rosa turned her knife over in her hands, eyes never leaving Robert West’s face. She was sprawled out in one of his office chairs, seeming completely at ease.</p><p>West smiled uncomfortably at her, before diverting his gaze back to Captain Holt’s. He was sitting up straight behind his desk, decked in his uniform, not a single button out of place - even though a visit from the 99th precinct was nothing to be dressed to the nines for. Rosa figured Jake would have said that with a grin from the pun. She had no such inclination. At the moment, anyway.</p><p>Holt eyed him critically - sitting at the office chair beside Rosa, although sitting more akin to West in terms of formality. He was also dressed in his uniform - Rosa had opted for the more ‘leather jacket and a glare’ option. It had always been effective before, and definitely was now, if West’s mixed confusion and uneasiness at meeting her had any indication.</p><p>Flicking the knife’s edge under her nail to clean a nonexistent speck of dirt, she considered West - if he wasn’t dressed up for the Captain’s rank, then it was probably in an attempt to intimidate. Or impress.</p><p>Holt probably would have been impressed by the level of detail in the getup of West, if they were there for any other reason. But Rosa could tell that Holt was completely disinterested in appreciating the value of West - chances were, the quality was the only thing of value the guard had to offer.</p><p>Holt had intended to go on his own to this, but Rosa had volunteered herself along. Well, she appeared in front of his car with her gun, badge, and a glare. And, the whole ‘massive knife’ thing. She was only packing her most intimidating ones.</p><p>It hadn’t taken long for her and Terry to track down the guard. Holt had been working on the email front, while she thought that was pointless - as far as she was concerned, the person who sent the email did a service. Now she would get to eviscerate some fucker who hurt her friend. Terry, wisely, decided not to state his opinion either way - not wanting to incur the wrath of either of them.</p><p>It had taken Rosa about an hour to identify West, first from the video of him beating up Jake - having to rewatch the video to get a clear image of the guys' face made Rosa want to break the computer - and then from the penitentiary guard roster. Waiting for a schedule opening had been the only really time-consuming part of the whole process. The guy definitely enjoyed the whole ‘jerking around the little guys’ aspect of it. Once Holt got on the phone, though, the whole thing cleared up pretty quickly.</p><p>Either way, it seemed that West hadn’t realized the video was sent to them - or, actually, that it had ever been recorded to begin with, if they were being honest - which meant he wasn’t going to be prepared.</p><p>As much as she hated the idea of the man who hurt her friend thinking he was getting away with it, him being unprepared meant he was more likely to self-incriminate. That was a good thing, she was forced to remind herself. His arrogance would work to their benefit.</p><p>Rosa took a deep, twisted pleasure in hoping that he was going to resist. It would be nice to drag the guy out in front of his coworkers and prisoners - maybe he would even resist arrest, and she’d have to use force.</p><p>Despite Rosa’s aggressive nature, she had a personal policy to never use excessive force on living things - computers, sure, but perps? It was wrong, and just because she had power didn’t mean she was going to abuse it. She knew how the power structure worked with police, and refused to participate in it - Rosa was stubborn on a good day, after all.</p><p>Holt hadn’t been so lucky with the technology front - he, or rather the IT department, had thrown in the towel after a week of work. After that, he had called in a favor from someone - he wouldn’t say who, but promised it wasn’t Seamus Murphy again - and they figured out it had come from a computer somewhere in the penitentiary. Of course, everyone had access to those, so who fucking knew - Holt was convinced it was another guard who wanted West out.</p><p>Rosa wasn’t so sure about that - why send it to the 99, then? It seemed more malicious then that - but she frankly didn’t give a fuck about the sender’s motivations. It had a net benefit - well, actually, Jake was pretty shook up about it, so maybe she actually should be more upset about that. Unless they sent it, knowing that their precinct would do something about it since it was one of their own?</p><p>Rosa could care about that whole thing later. Right now, all she wanted was to nail West and get him put in prison - this time without the posh guard outfit.</p><p>West glanced back at her. He looked vaguely discomforted. That wasn’t ideal - she wanted him to be scared, not uneasy.</p><p>“Are you allowed to bring that in here?” He asked her.</p><p>“What, this?” Rosa spun the knife in her grip, voice deadpan. “It’s my emotional support weapon.”</p><p>West let out a nervous chuckle - Rosa’s expression didn’t change.</p><p>He cleared his throat, before looking back to Holt. “So, Captain,” He said formally, “What brings the 99th precinct to our penitentiary?”</p><p>“As you may recall, there was a police officer from our precinct stationed here for a time.”</p><p>“I don’t recall any of our guards-”</p><p>“He was a prisoner here.” Holt interrupted.</p><p>“Oh.” West frowned, confused. “So? What, he die or something?”</p><p>“No.” Holt said, “He was acquitted, and has returned to his job.”</p><p>“Oh. Well, good for him.” West said generically, looking thoroughly bored with the conversation.</p><p>Rosa flicked her gaze to Holt - who was sitting so stiffly it seemed he was press-ironed into place - before it returned to West.</p><p>“We are here because we received evidence of some improper actions occurring within this prison.” Holt stated, “Some guards mistreating prisoners, to be specific.”</p><p>“O-kay,” West said slowly, sitting forward. “Look,” He began, voice dripping with condescension, “The prisoners here, they aren’t good people. Sometimes they beat on each other. It’s our job to keep them here, and preferably keep them alive - if someone gets a black eye here and there, it’s not our business. A lot ‘em will lie, say the guards did it, since snitching is a bit of a no-go.”</p><p>“This isn’t about cover-ups.” Holt said shortly, “We have video evidence.”</p><p>“Video” Now West frowned. “I see. Well, clearly, prisoners shouldn’t have access to video-recording devices. We’ll do a sweep right away, thank you for pointing that out.”</p><p>Rosa raised an eyebrow. “Are you always this delusional?”</p><p>“Excuse me?” West postured, “I take offense to that-”</p><p>“Then be offended.” Rosa retorted easily, stepping on the last word of his sentence. West looked about to protest, but Rosa’s knife caught the edge of the light, and he swallowed it back.</p><p>Holt tilted his head towards Rosa in approval. “My Detective is correct in her assessment. You are not prioritizing the main information at this time. Our precinct has evidence of a guard who works here assaulting a prisoner with excessive force.”</p><p>West nodded. “Yes, and you’re letting me know so I can make sure more evidence doesn’t come up.” He leaned forward conspiratorially, “I appreciate the discretion. Rest assured, it won’t happen again, I’ll make sure of it. We in uniform need to have each others’ backs, after all.”</p><p>“You are correct. It will not happen again.” Holt replied, eyes narrowed.</p><p>Rosa allowed a predatory grin to spread across her face.</p><p>West looked between the two of them. Rosa was waiting for him to put it together. It didn’t take long, at least. She wanted to get to the fun part.</p><p>“Oh. I feel like… there’s been a misunderstanding here.” West said, sitting up straight again. He looked much more nervous than before - his hands fiddled with his collar, disturbing the crisp edge of it, rumpling it slightly.</p><p>“There is no misunderstanding on our part.” Holt replied coolly. If Rosa didn’t know any better, she would say that Holt was enjoying himself at stringing the guard along, drawing out his anxiety. But she did know better, and thus knew for a fact that Holt was enjoying himself <i>immensely</i>.</p><p>As was she.</p><p>Rosa leaned forward, as West leaned further back - as if the distance between them would prevent his downfall. She could practically see the axe dangling over his head.</p><p>Oh, this was exhilarating - the image of Jake, screaming in pain at this man’s feet, was enough to snap her moment of patience, however - and her snarled grin vanished.</p><p>“We have a video of you assaulting one of our detectives. One of your prisoners. Pretty brutally. So, we have two choices - you can leave with us the boring way, in handcuffs. Or the fun way - fun for me, anyway.” She raised an eyebrow. “I’m hoping you go the fun way, personally.”</p><p>“What? I- what?” West sputtered, turning to look to Holt as if for backup. Holt stared back impassively. “Captain, your detective is speaking quite unprofessionally-”</p><p>“The only thing that is unprofessional is your interminable blubbering. I was not aware this penitentiary was in the habit of employing petulant children for its roster.”</p><p>“Nice one.” Rosa said.</p><p>“Thank you.” He acknowledged, still staring down West.</p><p>“I- this is out of your jurisdiction. We’re a federal prison, and… and I’m hardly the only one who does this sort of thing. If I get arrested, they’d have to fire half the staff.”</p><p>“How astute of you to point out that the entire prison system is corrupted.” Holt said, “However, that is beyond our scope. As to your statement that this is outside of your jurisdiction, you are partially correct. We cannot charge you for assaulting a prisoner. However, the assault of an officer is, in fact, within our rights. And, rest assured, I have already spoken to my good acquaintance in the Department of Justice for an ethics investigation.”</p><p>“Nothing’s going to come out of that.” West said, although he didn’t seem very confident. “Besides, no one’s going to find me guilty - I… I have connections.”</p><p>“As many as I do?” Holt raised an eyebrow. “Now, that would be truly astonishing.”</p><p>West’s face flashed with frustration, briefly coloring his poorly masked fear.</p><p>“We will be arresting you now.” Holt informed him, standing up.</p><p>West shook his head. “This is preposterous. I wouldn’t have hit him if I’d known he was a cop!”</p><p>Rosa rolled her eyes, standing up as well. “Well, thanks for admitting it. That’ll make this easier for us. Now, are you going to come boring or fun?”</p><p>West began to protest again, and Holt turned to Rosa, face neutral. “Feel free to arrest him, Rosa. Force can be used as necessary.”</p><p>Rosa felt a surge of satisfaction at that, slipping her knife back into its sheath and replacing it ith a pair of cuffs.</p><p>“Robert West, you’re under arrest for the assault of Detective Jacob Peralta,” She began, taking one of West’s arms. He tried to pull it out of her arm, but her grip didn’t budge. He pulled again, and she slammed him down onto his desk, cuffing his hands behind his back as she read him his rights.</p><p>Holt didn’t comment as she hauled him up, merely opening the door for them.</p><p>“Good work, Detective Diaz.” Holt said, a hint of pride inching into his tone.</p><p>Rosa took tremendous joy in leading West out past all of his coworkers - she figured one of them was secretly pleased with the result, and figured they deserved the reward of knowing how this ended up.</p><p>Of course, they hadn’t stopped West from assaulting her friend in the first place, so she was still more than a little annoyed, but still.</p><p>Rosa wasn’t good at feelings and stuff. She couldn’t just… talk to Jake and make him feel better. That was Amy’s thing. And she didn’t cook for people, or do hugs. That was Charles’ thing. She also wasn’t very good at emotional support, which was Terry’s suit. And Holt was much more suited to giving praise than she was, certainly. No, Rosa’s method of showing that she cared was definitely through… fixing problems. She couldn’t just hug it out if something was wrong. She would make the thing that was wrong disappear.</p><p>She had broken into Jake’s house to fix his heater once, and another time to repair a broken hinge. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about Jake being hurt - she did. She cared <i>deeply</i> about the issue. But coddling him wasn’t going to help, and besides, Amy and everyone had that covered. Her skills were best used here, helping in her own way.</p><p>Besides, Rosa knew that Jake did appreciate it, even if he wasn’t always that good at expressing. Tonight, she would invite him out for drinking in silence, and she’d listen to him natter on about Die Hard or something equally stupid for the thousandth time.</p><p>And the thought of that… well, Rosa looked forward to it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>added another chapter to this one to wrap up the ending, as per a couple of requests! i enjoyed writing rosa, she's fun and i feel like her stoicism hides a lot of care :D</p><p>please comment if you are so inclined! it gives me serotonin &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>